I’m not sure how to feel about Pinkie’s Blackwatch friends. Cherry wants me dead and I don’t know if I should stop her before she’ll do something she’ll regret. Pillow Talk doesn’t seem to mind me, however he may just be following Pinkie’s orders and doesn’t care what I do, as long as I don't kill anyone. Doctor Heart is on no one’s side but her own. She’ll support me if it means she’ll live to see another day, but I have a feeling she’ll backstab me for the same reason.

The blue-eye was still out cold when I left the room. I don’t know how he’s going to react when he wakes up. He might go crazy and try to kill me in my sleep, or he may just be happy to get another person to play in his Friday night poker game. My bets are leaning towards crazy.

There’s no reason for me to care about any of these dweebs. I just need Pinkie to help me with my memories, one way or another. I’ve been shot at by Blackwatch, bitten by infected, crushed by a monster, pulverized by a shield, and exploded by airships, and the sun hasn’t even set yet. I’ve earned those memories, and I’m going to get them.

Unlike the top floor, the first floor of the day care is decently lit, albeit with ugly florescent lighting. Sunnyside Daycare my ass, this place is a morgue! There’s a bunch of crayon pictures and hoof-made decorations and signs hanging on the walls, but with this lighting it looks like the parents made a memorial of their children’s artwork. Given how serious this plague business is, I bet there's a real one of these things floating around.

My little force is guiding me through this dead hallway, hopefully leading me to Pinkie Pie. It’s empty in this place, no one around. I’m about to walk around a corner when large, tan stallion lumbers right in front of me. He’s a big boy, just a bit bigger than me. He’s got a white mane, brown eyes, and a toothpick sticking out of his teeth. There’s a pile of ripped-up clothes sitting on his back, the kind of clothes Blackwatch wears.

We would’ve bumped into each other if I didn’t jump back. Our eyes meet. It takes a second, but his brown eyes go wide when he gets a good look of me. “You,” he grumbles, “You’re that damn griffon whose been causing us trouble.”

“That would be me,” I say. “You must be that Bulk guy I heard about.”

“The name’s Budge,” he says, pointing a large hoof at me. “And don’t you forget it.”

Ah, the wannabe aggressive type. We got some of those back in Griffonstone. Heck, I even went through that phase when I was five. “Don’t worry, Buggy, I’m not going to forget.”

His eye twitches at the sound of me screwing up his name on purpose. “I know you’re messing with me,” he says. “Let me be clear. Pinkie Pie might say we’re all friends here, but I don’t trust you. I know you’ll strike once we have our backs turned. If you try anything, and I mean anything, I’m going to end your miserable existence on the spot. You got that?”

“Those are some big words from a big stallion,” I say. “So did Pinkie Pie finally get you down from that ceiling? Those kids must have tied you up good.”

The toothpick in his mouth drops to the floor. His tan face turns a nice shade of bright red. “They just surprised me, that’s all. Kids are strong when they work as a team.”

My beak curls up in a little smirk. “Right, of course. I’ll keep that in mind next time I fight a kindergarten class.”

Budge says nothing. He stands there for a moment, then steps aside and walks down the hallway. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off of me, going as far as turning his head all the way back just to glare at me. I wave at him just as he trips over a trashcan and face-plants into the floor. He makes a big thud when he falls.

After I finish laughing at him, I move on and follow my inner force. Should I worry about Budge? Nah, he’s harmless. If things go south, he’ll probably go toe-to-toe with me to prove his honor or worth or something else sappy. He’s big, but I don’t think he’s immune to giant monster claws. I’ll be fine.

I don’t have to walk too far, since around the corner I find Pinkie Pie. She’s in a room with a row of windows looking out into the hallway. All the kids are in there with her. She has them all sitting at those tiny desks. Their heads are down, and Pinkie’s watching the room like a hawk. This must be time out for the kids.

I head for the door, but I stop when I see Cherry standing beside it. She’s watching over the kids in her own little corner, presumably to catch them if they try to escape. Her her eyes shoot up when she notices me. She gives me a stink-eye, similar to what old griffon coots back in Griffonstone give to anyone they deem annoying.

As is tradition with my people in these kinds of social exchanges, I flip Cherry the bird. It’s Pinkie Pie I’m after, and I don’t need to get past this harpy to see her.

My knuckles knock on the glass, and Pinkie Pie looks up and at me. She says something quick to the kids, runs over to the door, says something to Cherry, and comes outside to meet me.

“To my office, now,” she says, trotting on past me. “We need to talk.”

“What, no breaking out in song? No happy-partytimes with the ultimate party mare?” I say, following close behind her.

“Do these look like happy-party-times?” she says. “Manehattan is the new Tartarus. Ponies are dying from the plague, Blackwatch is out of control, my closest friends are missing, monsters are jumping all over the place, and now Patient Zero is running around doing Celestia-knows-what damage to an already destroyed city.”

“Pinkie, I’m Patient Zero.”

She looks at me with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. “No way. I didn’t know. I thought Blackwatch was calling you Zero because you have zero sense of awareness. It all makes sense now! Go home everypony, we unmasked the vigilante known as Patient Zero! But you can call her Gilda.”

My eyebrows go up. “Is that sarcasm? Coming from you?”

She shrugs. “I’ve had time to practice.”

“Sheesh, the plague must have done a number on you.”

“Look who’s talking,” she snaps. “You’re one of them. You’re infected! You got arms that turn into claws and you slash up ponies like some cheesy horror movie villain. The plague’s turned you into a monster!”

What freak put a stick up her butt? “Hey, this monster saved you from the bigger monster.”

“That was an Ogre,” Pinkie says. “Sure you saved us, you also might have killed all the kids!”

“How? You would all be dead if I didn’t stop that monster.”

“Ogre.”

“That Ogre would’ve torn right through you, and those Blackwatch goons wouldn’t have done jack squat to help.”

“That’s not what I’m angry about,” Pinkie says. “Cherry said it best, you’re a walking bag of Blacklight and death.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t bring Cherry into this. She has it out for me.”

“And I’ll have it out for you if you’re not more careful.” She jumps in front of me and shoves a hoof in my chest. “You’re an infected griffon. Did you ever stop and think if you could be contagious. That everywhere you go you’re spreading the Blacklight plague?”

I shoved her hoof away. “Give me a break. I woke up last night, and that has been the first time I’ve woken up in a month. I’m still trying to fill in some major gaps.”

“So that’s a no, you don’t think.” Pinkie Pie looks away and huffs. “You might be spreading the plague and you don’t even know it.”

“I’m a walking death machine, what about it?” I say. “What am I supposed to do, find out who’ve I’ve killed and apologize?”

“You,” Pinkie says, “just have to be more careful. I said you might be spreading the plague, might. It’s been a couple of hours since we talked. If you were contagious, I’d have rashes by now.”

“Oh, so I’m not contagious. So why the heck are you angry at me?”

“I’m angry because you’re not careful, and you could’ve infected everyone you met,” she says. “You’re a good friend, Gilda, but you’re impulsive and you don’t think about anything you do or what happens afterwards."

I remain silent. Me, impulsive? And this is coming from the Queen of Randomness and Spontaneity. Pinkie Pie walks over to a door and grabs the knob, but looks at me before she opens it.

“I know it’s hard, but I need you to start using your noggin. Now more than ever, I need you to be careful.”

Before I say anything, she puts a hoof over her mouth, telling me to be quiet. She turns the knob and throws open the door.

“And don’t give me that look,” she says in a louder voice. I try to say something, but she cuts me off. “No, you’re still in quiet time. I am very disappointed in you, Iffy Sniff. I’m going to give you time to think about what you’ve done.”

Uh, Iffy Sniff? He’s still a the clinic, last I checked. Did a blood vessel finally burst in her head?

Pinkie Pie waves at me to follow her inside. “You’re going to sit in that corner until I say you can go. No talking. No moving. Just sitting.”

I enter the room, a light flickers on, and I find myself in a very cluttered office. Filing cabinets are squeezing against the walls, and all of them are overflowing with papers, colorful streamers, folders, balloons, tax reports, plates, napkins, a suit and tie, the occasional cake, and anything else you’d find either at a party or in an office. There’s a desk in the middle, too, with pencils, crayons, pens, and a half eaten muffin.

“I don’t want you giving me any lip, young mister.” Pinkie Pie darts between the filing cabinets. She opens and closes every drawer she can get her hooves on, spilling out confetti and documents wherever she goes. “You know what you did was bad.”

Alright, Pinkie Pie isn’t talking to me directly. I don’t exactly know what she’s doing, but I know she's lost her marbles. She’s tearing through this office, looking in every crevice, drawer, open birthday present, and party-hat she can find, only to toss them aside with a dissatisfied look.

“No, that prank was not funny.” At last, she reaches for the desk and pulls out a drawer. She looks inside for a moment, and motions for me to come over and take a peak. “Caramel has broken ribs. How can you possibly find that funny?”

I come on over and look into the drawer. She pulls the drawer out a bit more, points inside it, and I see a beetle sitting next to a roll of tape and a kazoo. It’s a tiny black thing, with green, glowing eyes and long antenna. It scurries into the shadows when it meets the light. That’s a creepy little bugger.

“I don’t even know how you built that contraption. Where’d you get the bowling balls for it?” She reaches behind her and pulls an empty can off the shelf. The label reads Syler’s Soundproof Cylinder. For prank use only.

“You’re a great kid. You got your whole future to look forward to. But for the love of all that is sugary and sweet in the world, don’t ruin Blackwatch’s day.” She yanks the drawer open and slams the can on top of the beetle. I can hear a tapping sound as it bumps into tin, but it’s not getting out any time soon.

Pinkie Pie looks me straight in the eye. “I need you to ruin Blackwatch’s day.”